Table For Eight

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Table For Eight Page 35

by Tricia Stringer


  Collectively they looked at the chair where Ketty had been seated between Frank and Celia.

  “She must have left.” Celia looked around. She hadn’t noticed Ketty leave.

  “But it is her birthday.” Carlos lifted his hands in the air. “I have arranged a special dessert for your table.”

  They were silent, glancing in embarrassment at each other. Even Christine looked contrite. Josie and Bernard both sank back into their chairs.

  Celia felt terrible. “We didn’t know it was her birthday.”

  “She wouldn’t want a fuss,” Josie said.

  Carlos raised his eyebrows higher, looked at each of them in turn then left them to their mortification. In the distance the staff sang ‘Happy Birthday’ at another table. Celia chewed her lip. She felt she’d let her friend Ketty down badly.

  Thirty-three

  “Celia, please don’t let it upset you.” Jim would have liked to put his arm around her shoulders but he wasn’t certain how she’d react.

  Once they’d left the dining room she had wanted to go see Ketty but he’d thought it best to leave Ketty to herself for the moment. He did believe that’s what she would prefer, but truth be told he also felt a little guilty. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening with Celia. He’d convinced her to come out on the deck first and take a stroll. They hadn’t moved far before they’d slowed and been drawn to the rail, both of them standing still, looking out into the dark night beyond the ship.

  “I’m not sure how I’m feeling, Jim.” Celia turned to face him. “I can’t believe Christine said what she did and I don’t understand why. I was embarrassed at first. After all that business with Maude then to have Christine make what happened between you and me…or didn’t actually happen, into something that sounded sordid.”

  She gave him a weak smile. He was pleased to see that at least.

  “We know the truth,” he said. “What does it matter what Princess Christine says?”

  Celia chuckled then just as quickly she frowned.

  “I felt worse for you than for myself.” She rested her hand on the arm he had propped on the rail. “Having your kindness made to look like something seedy.”

  The touch of her hand on his arm sent a thrill through him. They both fell silent, both looking into the darkness.

  “Poor Ketty,” Celia said at last. “She looked rather upset and then she disappeared without saying anything, and to think today was her birthday.”

  “You’re such a kind-hearted person, Celia.”

  “It’s good of you to say so but right now I’d like nothing better than to slap Christine’s smug face.”

  “I’d say you’d have to stand in line. I can’t imagine how Frank puts up with her.”

  “And to think Ketty was concerned for her.”

  “Was she?”

  “Remember when we both said we weren’t too fond of Christine and Ketty said she was troubled and needed help?”

  “Oh yes, vaguely.”

  Celia’s eyes sparkled in the glow from the overhead lights. A small piece of hair had floated in the breeze to rest on her cheek. He resisted the urge to tuck it back.

  “Maybe she’s done us a favour,” he said.

  “Christine?”

  He reached for her other hand and shuffled the smallest distance closer. Celia’s eyes widened a little but her gaze remained firmly on his.

  “I enjoy your company. I think you enjoy mine,” he said.

  “I do.”

  “Today out sailing…well, I’m happy when I’m with you, Celia.”

  He bent his head towards her, paused. She was looking at him with such trust, admiration even. Instead of kissing her he gently pulled her towards him and wrapped her in his arms. Perhaps kissing might come later. This was all so foreign to him, holding a woman who wasn’t Jane. Celia nestled there a moment then slid her arms around him. She moulded against him, her cheek pressed to his chest. His chin rested on her head, and he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair.

  They stayed that way for several minutes. Below them the waves hissed and frothed against the hull of the ship. Somewhere nearby a door banged, and he heard footsteps on the deck moving away from them. He wasn’t sure what he should do next.

  It was Celia who pulled away first. She bent her head back to look up at him. Her face was lit by the soft yellow of the deck lights and a smile played on her lips.

  “Maybe you’re right.” She smiled. “If Christine hadn’t made her little speech we might still be dancing around each other. Neither of us brave enough to tell the other how they feel.”

  How did he feel? Jim didn’t know. A mixture of emotions tumbled inside him. He needed more time to process them but he wanted to spend that time with Celia. That at least he was sure about.

  “Do you still want to see tonight’s show?” he asked.

  “I’d love it.”

  She slid her arm through his. He gripped her hand tightly, suddenly feeling like a man who had found a foothold on a slippery deck.

  Bernard sat on the balcony waiting for Josie to arrive. She’d gone to her room to change and rinse out her top. She said she’d come to his cabin again tonight but part of him didn’t believe it. He hunched forward, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. Why had he ever thought going on a holiday with Christine was a good idea? If he’d come alone he would have met Josie, been settled in a relationship with her back in Brisbane, and Christine would have been none the wiser until he and Josie had had a chance to—To what, he wasn’t quite sure. Know each other better, cement their relationship. He already felt as if he knew Josie very well, and after his explanations today she still wanted to be with him. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her everything. Leo had found them before he’d told his whole story but that had probably been just as well. There was only so much of one’s past that could be revealed at a time.

  There was a knock on the door. Bernard was on his feet quickly and flung it open. Josie stood before him, a bag over her shoulder and a glass of red in each hand. Her smile was wary.

  “I hope I’m still welcome.”

  He took the glasses from her and stepped back to let her pass. No sooner was the door shut and he had placed the glasses on the bench than he took her in his arms and kissed her, long and slow.

  She was the one to ease away first with a hand to his chest. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “I’m so sorry about tonight.”

  “Stop apologising for your daughter’s behaviour, Bernie.”

  “She made it sound as if I didn’t care about her mother.”

  “That must hurt.” She brushed her lips lightly over his cheek. “Let’s sit out on your lovely balcony. I want to explain what she said about me.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I don’t mind. You’ve been honest with me.”

  She looked away to put down her bag. Bernard was relieved, sure he must have a guilty look on his face.

  “Since your confession this afternoon I’ve wanted to explain. Leo’s arrival up on the deck put paid to our personal conversation but I’d like to tell you now.”

  He turned away quickly to hide his discomfort, picked up the glasses and they settled themselves on the balcony; a chair each and their bare feet resting on the little table. He reached out and trailed a finger down her arm. Even though the light was dim he could see pain etched in her face. He reached for her hand, drew it to him, kissed her fingers.

  “You’re a lovely man, Bernie. I wish I had met you a long time ago.”

  “Not that lovely. I’ve failed my daughter. I didn’t realise how badly until tonight.”

  “I get she’s being protective. My boys are like that but perhaps not to the same degree. I tried to shield them from their dad’s violence but I couldn’t in the end. As they got older he didn’t care that they saw him hit me. It was probably his way of keeping them in line. When we left it was with only a couple of bags and the clothes on our backs.

  �
�I worked hard to make a new life for us. It took me a long time to trust a man again and I made another mistake. The boys were in high school when I met Terry, who became my second husband. We had several good years. He was a nice guy, he was a good father to my boys, but he strayed even though he vowed he still loved me. I wasn’t prepared to turn a blind eye. We had combined our finances, built a house together by then, I worked part-time in his office, had his kids over every second weekend, but he wasn’t going to give me my share. I had to get a lawyer to be awarded what I was owed from our assets. I won’t deny I did better out of it than I’d thought I would, but I could have ended up with nothing and I wasn’t prepared to go back there.” She paused, took a deep breath, looked him in the eye. “That’s all there is. That’s me, all warts exposed.”

  “I’d be the last person to judge.” He shook his head slowly. “My story is quite different to yours. I missed the closeness I’d had with my wife Della and maybe I did make some bad choices at looking for a replacement but no one was hurt in the process.”

  “Except perhaps Christine.” Josie gave him a wry smile.

  Bernie saw a glimpse of what Christine might have seen when he’d first brought Gloria home. It had been Chrissie’s twenty-first. Her mother hadn’t been dead quite a year. He’d been full of excitement to have some romance in his life again. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best time to introduce Gloria. He put his head in his hands. “I never meant Chrissie to be hurt.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.”

  “Bloody hell, this mess is all my fault.”

  This time Josie reached out, put a gentle hand on his. “I used to think it was my fault my first husband hit me.”

  He lifted his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I know that now.” She smiled at him. “Maybe you could have handled things differently or maybe Christine was always going to resent anyone who you took up with. There’s no way of knowing but she’s an adult now, responsible for her own choices.”

  Bernard’s stomach roiled. “I’ve made a mess of my daughter’s life.”

  “Hardly. She’s got a good job, a roof over her head, two lovely kids by all accounts, and a husband who adores her, although I think even he was shocked tonight. All you can do is reassure her that you love her.” Josie gave a dry laugh. “And let her know I’m not after your money. I’ve learned a few things in my time. I own my apartment, have a comfortable allowance, but my finances are all locked up and my sons the beneficiaries of anything that will be left after I’ve enjoyed my life as much as I can.”

  “Likewise.” That was almost the truth, Bernard thought, but there was no need for Josie to know those details.

  “You’ve explained your reasons for not wanting to advise me on real estate and I can accept that.”

  He hadn’t told her the real reason for that either but she’d happily accepted that he didn’t want to be advising her if they were in a relationship. It wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth.

  “I’m not looking for a meal ticket, Bernie.” She leaned across, her lips only a short gap from his. “I’m after a man to enjoy life with.”

  Bernard pushed thoughts of further talk from his mind. Right now he had a warm-blooded woman in his arms and he was going to make the most of it.

  Jim walked Celia to her door.

  “Thanks, Jim.” She gave him a shy glance.

  He felt a bit on edge. They’d had a busy evening and now there were no more excuses to be together and they were lingering outside her door.

  “Are you still planning on breakfast in the dining room?” It was all he could think of to say.

  “Yes.”

  “Shall I meet you there? Eight-thirty?”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  He smiled. “The last part of the evening was certainly much more enjoyable than the first.”

  Celia’s face remained solemn.

  “You won’t let Christine’s bad behaviour bother you, will you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not even thinking about her.”

  “Or worry about Ketty?”

  “She’d be asleep now. I’ll call in on her first thing.”

  She tilted forward, hovered a moment a few inches from his face then brushed her lips across his cheek. It was a simple gesture. He stood stock still.

  “Goodnight, Jim.” Celia held his gaze a moment then turned away, fumbled with her card and let herself into her cabin.

  He stayed there, solid like a statue, for a few minutes before he turned and made his way to the end of the corridor and along to his own room. What a fool he was. He should have responded, kissed her back. She probably thought he was rejecting her but he’d been startled, that’s all. Wished he’d thought to kiss her, on the lips not the cheek. She had warm lips, soft like Jane’s.

  The familiar wave of pain swept down his chest and settled in his stomach. It took him by surprise. He hadn’t felt it for days. He staggered to a chair and sat. How could he possibly have forgotten Jane? He put his head in his hands. He’d brought her on this cruise with him in the same way he’d kept her close at home, and yet these last few days he’d hardly thought of her and today barely at all.

  He tried to picture her, couldn’t see her clearly, panicked and pulled out his phone. The screen didn’t respond. It had gone flat.

  “Jane, Jane,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

  He’d held her hand as she’d died and had wanted nothing more than to go with her. He’d kept her memory close these last two years, not letting go of the pain. He’d forgiven her for leaving him, she’d suffered so much, but he could never forgive himself for not being able to help her, and now he’d betrayed her. He’d found himself enjoying Celia’s company. He would have kissed her tonight if he hadn’t been so inept.

  “Jane.” He tugged at his hair with his fingers. “My darling Jane.”

  The pain still gnawed at him. He couldn’t bear it. He leaped to his feet, strode to the sliding doors and pushed them apart. He was met by a blast of warmer air and the sound of the sea churning below. He hesitated a moment, his hands pressed to the frame, then he stepped out into the black night.

  Ketty gave up trying to sleep and got out of her bed. As much as she’d tried to forget Christine’s words, the whole dining room scene kept playing over and over in her head. She dragged her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. She was glad Leo hadn’t been there. Goodness knows how he would have reacted. Josie had told her over dinner that Leo had decided to dine alone in one of the other restaurants. There had been no mention of how he was feeling about Ketty’s revelations and she hadn’t asked. She could see Josie was torn between supporting her friend and remaining true to her brother but Ketty had decided she would rather not set eyes on Leo again if she could help it.

  There had been pain in telling him what had happened, then release followed by a sense of calm. She didn’t feel bitter towards him; she just…no longer felt anything.

  Ketty wandered her cabin, straightening a book, tidying her already tidy dressing table. She was totally out of kilter. This holiday had not gone as she had thought it would. Cruising had become her escape; the one place where she was simply Ketty Clift, a woman who enjoyed travel, dressing up and the company of others. And, when she was on a ship where Carlos was maître d’, he made sure she had an interesting group, people who might need a nudge towards love, or healing, or a change of direction. There had never been any harm in it and it had given her great joy to see people take on new possibilities. Did that make her a – what had Christine called her – a busybody?

  Ketty slumped to the bed. A small tweak of pain shot along her arm to her elbow. Is that what she’d become; nothing but a lonely busybody? She dabbed at the moisture on her cheeks. Ketty was rarely one for tears but now that they’d started they rolled freely down her face. That was twice this cruise. She mopped at the moisture with her handkerchief. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t set things straight.
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  Thirty-four

  Christine paced the cabin. Her fingers pressed to her temples, which meant she occasionally jarred her elbow on the wall but she didn’t care. If she took her fingers from her head she felt as if her brain would explode out of it, and if she stopped pacing, the room would start to spin again and then she felt sick.

  She paused briefly in front of her reflection in the glass of the sliding door then turned and paced again. Had she really said all those things, made such a scene? She groaned. Where was Frank? He’d brought her back to their room, insisting she stay put, and said he’d bring back a big bottle of water but he’d been gone a long time. She knew he was ashamed of her. Perhaps he wouldn’t come back. She groaned again. Then her thoughts went to her father, the horrified look on his face, his arm around Josie as he’d guided her away.

  Christine had got some satisfaction from wiping the smug look off Josie’s face when she flung the champagne at her but it had been short-lived. She would still get his money but she was sure her father was lost to her now.

  “Arrgh!” Her cry startled her. It sounded loud in the empty room. From behind her came the sound of the card in the door. She turned as Frank came in with two big bottles of water tucked under his arm.

  He glanced at her then moved on past to the desk. He put one bottle in the fridge, opened the other and poured two glasses.

  He didn’t offer her one, simply waved a hand at it. “You should drink lots of water.” Then he slid open the balcony door. Christine felt the tremor inside her ears as the outside air fought against the air conditioning. She crossed to the desk as Frank stepped out into the inky night. She swallowed the glass full of water, poured another and drank half. She looked longingly at the bed. She’d love to crawl in and slip into the oblivion of sleep but she knew if she lay flat the room would spin worse than it did when she stood still. She began to pace again. Each time she reached the open balcony door she glimpsed the still figure of her husband sitting in a chair. He was positioned side-on to her with his face turned away so she didn’t know if his eyes were shut or if he was staring out into the blackness. Either way he certainly wasn’t talking. A part of her wished he would, wanted him to berate her for her poor behaviour, but that wasn’t Frank’s nature.

 

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